Therapy
by Kirra White Tigress
Summary: Musicalverse Gelphie. Stress can lead to depression, and sometimes depression is not needed. Glinda seeks guidance after the Witch’s death.


Disclaimer: I do not own Wicked or any of the characters mentioned in this story.

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Therapy  
Kirra White Tigress

"Close your eyes," said a calm and soothing voice. "Take a deep breath and let it out slowly."

Glinda did just so like she usually did. She took in a breath, but that breath drew in a sense of suffocation, and she let go completely. Tears stung her eyes as she tried to hold them back. Why was this so hard?

"Calm down; relax," said that same female voice. Glinda felt a gloved hand gently wipe away her tears and she flinched. The hand drew back. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Wrong?" Glinda repeated in a whisper. She opened her eyes, now blurred by tears, and stared up at the ceiling sadly. She once again took in a breath. "Everything is wrong," she breathed out.

"Why are you here?"

And so begins another harrowing journey into her subconscious, the place where her dreams died and so did the people she loved. Or maybe that was reality? It was so hard to differentiate the two these days…. Glinda sighed. She just wished that she could take control of time and correct her mistakes and quite possibly end it all. "I've come here for help, for guidance," she repeated for the thousandth time. She looked at the ceiling, trying to imagine images in the air around her that would somehow distract her. She hated these sessions, really she did. But she knew that she needed them now more than ever.

"Why do you need help?"

"Have you ever sunk down so low, so deep, that you can't find a way out? And the only one who can help is gone forever?" She choked on the word. Glinda never thought that she would ever say that word, especially in a setting such as this.

The woman shifted in her chair. "How do you mean?" she asked.

The blonde frowned. This was difficult enough already. Why make it harder? "My life is nothing anymore. It's worth nothing. Everything's become meaningless since she left. My Elphie…." Glinda closed her eyes to close out the sudden memories of her past that flashed in her mind. She couldn't keep out the sound of her voice that flooded her ears, nor the prickling of her own flesh as she subconsciously felt the breath of her former lover, the feel of her skin against hers….

She couldn't block out the sound of her scream as it echoed through the castle halls to Glinda's hiding place.

"Elphie?" asked the woman asked from beside her.

Glinda cast her a glare, though her form was darkened so that she couldn't be seen. "The Wicked Witch of the West," she said bitterly to her. Then, softer, she said, "She was my Elphaba, and only mine…."

"Do you blame her for anything?"

"Everything," Glinda said. She shook her head. "Nothing," she corrected herself. "Nothing but dying on me. She promised me everything. She promised me life, a sense of belonging… she promised me love that only she could give me…."

"But she's dead," said the woman calmly. The sound of a pen scratching paper was the only thing filling the silence left between them. She let out a sigh. "What was your relationship with her? There have been rumors going around saying you were her friend."

The blonde closed her eyes yet again. The world was spinning, and her mind was going with it. Couldn't they just drop the subject and diagnose her with premature insanity so that she could finally be left alone? It was better than her coming here week after week only to gain the same answer: "_You need time to think things over. Come back next week so we can try again."_

"Miss Glinda?"

"I loved her," she choked out at last, surprising herself with her directness. She didn't hold back. This was what three months in therapy had finally resulted in—she wasn't about to let it slip away. "I loved her more than anything, more than life itself. She was _everything_ to me…." She bit her lip. "Elphaba loved me in return just as much… and yet she _still_ found the need to die."

"Do you honestly believe that?"

Glinda turned over on the couch and stared at that patch of darkness blankly, tears still falling from her eyes.

"Do you honestly think that she would kill herself if she loved you? She would have fought."

"She told me to leave. Elphaba surrendered."

The woman sighed. "The Witch is a very strong and determined woman. From what you told me, she would never just give up. There's something that she wants to hide… and I think she wants you to find it." She closed her pen and tore a sheet of paper out of the pad. Handing it to Glinda, she said, "You need time to think this over. Come back next week so we can talk more about her."

Glinda stood and walked out of the room, throwing another glare in the woman's direction. The door slammed behind her; she didn't hear a shriek of surprise as she would have hoped, but she fought the urge to go back and make her scream. The nerve of her telling her to come back! She had everything thought out—she said everything she had to say out in the open…. And that bitch _still_ wouldn't help her!

The blonde opened the paper given to her, like she had for so many weeks. It would be just like the others. More medication, more rest, less meetings, so on and so forth when it was obvious that it would never happen in a thousand years. And though she was thrilled with the idea of more medication—just enough for her not to remember what day it was—she was frustrated with the fact that Oz _needed_ her, that she had no _time_ to relax….

Glinda held the top of the paper with the forefinger and thumb of both her hands, preparing to rip it in half. But then her eyes caught the familiar, slanted writing that she had seen so many times before. This time the message was different:

_I'm right here for you. Come find me._

The blonde stopped walking. She turned and looked toward the door she had just exited. Without a single thought, her feet carried her toward the door, her hand reached out to open it…. Hope drowned out her love which drowned out her fury as she let the door swing open. Her mind told her that it was just her foolish imagination; there was no way that Elphaba could be alive. Best leave that to the drugs that would be given to her at the pharmacy. But her heart screamed for the opposite to be true. It just _had _to be. Who else would have written that note, other than a crazed psychopath that only meant it to be some cruel joke?

Glinda held her breath as it was all revealed to her suddenly. She stepped into the room, her eyes scanning the entire area for a single spot of green for her to hone in on. But she saw nothing but the desk, the couch, the empty chair cloaked in darkness…. Her heart dropped. It was all just an illusion, a trick of her own mind. She wasn't here; she was never coming back…. "I'm such an idiot," she said to herself, wishing she had something to beat her head on.

"Don't start beating yourself up over this. What do you think therapy's for?"

The blonde wheeled around and gasped. Standing in front of her, clothed entirely in black, was a green woman just like the one of her dreams smiling down at her. Glinda looked her over, tracing every detail of this woman with her eyes, comparing them to the features of the Elphaba she knew and loved. Her breath caught in her throat. "Elphie?" she asked breathily.

As if to prove her to be true, the green woman slowly spun for her to get a better look. She smiled wider. "In the flesh, my dear," she said. Her smile faded when she saw Glinda still staring at her unconvincingly. "At least _act_ like it's me, Glinda. It's not everyday when you see your only friend come back from the deepest parts of Hell. Not that I've ever been there…."

"You're not here," Glinda whispered more to herself than to the vision before her. She shook her head. "No, you're not here. You're an illusion." She lifted her hand and slowly moved it toward the Witch's body. She braced herself for feeling nothing but air… but she suddenly felt rough fabric. Her blue eyes went from Elphaba's chest to her eyes and then back again. Glinda let her fingers move across the fabric of her black dress, feeling it wrinkle and then smooth out again with her touch. The warmth of her body seeped through the dress, enabling Glinda to feel it. Tears came to her eyes. "You _are_ real."

"Of course I am," Elphaba said gently. She raised an eyebrow at her. "You've gotten thinner since I last saw you. Have you eaten in the past month or so?"

"What happened?" Glinda asked, ignoring Elphaba's question. "I thought you were dead…."

The Witch sighed. "I had to let you think that, but I'll assure you that it was against my will. You see, Fiyero—"

"Fiyero?" Glinda asked. Her eyes hardened in her sudden anger. "You were with _him_ all this time? Elphie, I thought—"

"I _do_ love you, Glinda," the Witch interrupted. "Fiyero knew that; that's why he came up with that plan to trick everyone into believing I was dead. He said that when everything had more or less calmed, I could come back. And I did, but I have to go back to Fliaan."

Glinda nodded sadly. "You're leaving me again." She gave her a sad smile and hugged her. She noticed that Elphaba seemed more relaxed than she used to when she gave her these unexpected hugs. She let the tears fall as she said, "I'll miss you, Elphie."

Elphaba chuckled. "What makes you think I'm letting you go?" she asked. She pulled away and wiped away the blonde's tears, kissing her cheeks as she did. "I want you to come with me."

The blonde looked at her in confusion. "What?" she asked. Her heart was suddenly racing ninety miles an hour, almost as fast as before.

The Witch leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Come with me…_ away_ from the Emerald City."

It was in that same moment that Glinda realized where she was destined to be. She smiled up at Elphaba and took her hand, where she was then led to the window. The blonde knew that she couldn't let this opportunity slip past her again, not now when she knew better. She climbed onto the broom behind Elphaba, her arms wrapped around her waist, and they both lifted into the sky.

The Land of Oz was never the same after that day. They fell into a frenzy, searching throughout the land and wondering where their leader had vanished to. Some believed that the soul of the Wicked Witch had come and spirited her away, and in a sense that was true. But never would they ever believe that she was happier than ever with the so-called Witch, and never would they ever know that the thought never crossed her mind of ever returning. She was finally free from her problems, and she was faced with a whole new life.

There was nothing that could ever bring them down.


End file.
